Ulteriorly
by Hammyzoom
Summary: In which Percy and Luke unite for the wrong reasons under the right circumstances, fighting a war all the while. To be loving enemies... A/N: Rated T for words, possibly implications of naughty things in later chapters and beyond. Chapters will increasingly grow longer. (Lukercy.)
1. Chapter 1 - Reconcile

**So, my first fanfiction. Whoo. It will more than likely be continued, but only if you guys want. So pleaseeee review. It's appreciated, negative or positive. So, yeah. Not sure what to put here. ****Word count before AN: 2,497. ****(Though that will probably increase later on.) Again, sorry if it's short. D: I just wanna know whether I should continue this or not before I do so. Thanks for reading And, nope. Don't own the PJO series, no matter how much I'd like. Full credit to Rick Riordan.**

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For Percy, times could be better. In fact, times could be better for everyone; every mortal and god alike. But when you were fighting against time itself, hopes like those were useless.

He was one of the few that realized just how terrible it was; how absolutely, utterly and completely horrible this war was. He realized what it could bring and how it would forever go down in history. Most importantly, Percy realized he was a key in this war. He could make it or break it; bring the Titans to their knees or watch as Western Civilization crumbled. The stress was killing him. It grew in his chest as a ball- no, it wasn't orderly enough to be a ball- it was a knot. A ferocious, tight knot that ate at him, gnawed into his very existence, until his bones were shaky and his skin pale. But Percy fought on. He kept going, didn't stop. Every monster he slayed, every traitor he brought back to the "good" side. (Good? What did that even mean anymore? Percy sure as hell didn't know.) They didn't relieve his stress, certainly not. He wasn't sure anything could do that now. They only propelled him further, pushed him deeper into a hole he wasn't sure he could ever climb from. The son of Poseidon was killing himself before he could ever kill Kronos.

All these thoughts and more flew through the young demigod's head as he walked through the crowded city street, his vacant eyes scanning for any sign of monster-life, bitterly-cold New York air brushing against his pink cheeks and swelling into his jacket, sending shivers throughout his body, goosebumps growing like grass on his pale skin. To others, the boy most likely seemed normal. A teenager, out with nothing to do. That was close to correct. Percy Jackson certainly wasn't just any teenager, but, at this point in time, he didn't know what he was doing.

As if on cue (perhaps timing that was too sharp), a warm hand was placed on his shoulder, lithe, nimble fingers trailing down to nearly graze his collarbone, followed by a familiar voice. Snarky. "Perce. Long time no see." Luke. Instantly, he recognized it, only to be affirmed further when he turned around to be met by a smirking face, tugging upon a scar.

"Luke…" The name leaped from his mouth, as those around him seemed to disappear, his body suddenly against a cold, stone wall. His heart did a few moves that he never thought it could before, his hand simultaneously reaching into his pocket, grabbing desperately for Riptide. "Wha-"

"Shh, Perce," The older cooed, face suddenly closer than it was before, the hand removed from Percy's shoulder, now groping the younger's arm. "You know, I missed you," Luke said, his tone genuine and sincere, nearly fooling Percy into thinking he really did. Luke Castellan would never miss him. Luke Castellan _hated_ Percy, and Percy hated him. Or, at least, he should hate Luke. To break the boy from his thoughts came another low purr, "Perce?"

Percy struggled, writhing this way and that, despite knowing his inability to escape the older boy. "F-fuck off, Castellan," came next, though extremely contradictory to Percy's red-cheeks, and the way that knot seemed to melt in his chest, the way it evaporated with the sight of Luke's face. Gods, Percy hated to admit it, but Luke calmed him. Reassured him- after months of no contact with the older. No- Luke had been the cause of all of this, Percy knew better. Luke had disappeared once and he can disappear again. Nothing is holding him back. Not him, not his kisses, not his body and certainly not his love.

Love. Love was a thing Percy didn't like to contemplate; the boy hated the word, an oxymoron in itself. Defied it with all he could, though he knew it would never be escaped: Aphrodite wasn't kind. Love was an (un)needed evil, and his whole life was an irony.

"_Perce_," the son of Hermes whispered, as people flooded around them- Percy's mind was blank, he couldn't form words, couldn't move, he could only watch. His sea-green irises shrunk, pupils dilating into the free space as more blood rushed to his face (and somewhere less decent). "You missed me. Say it. Say 'Luke Castellan, I missed you. I _want_ you." His face was smug, smirking, over gentle blue-eyes that seemed almost loving, sending the sea prince sinking back further, though the eldest confident as ever. The kind of confidence that was enjoyable, even to be respected. Percy surely didn't have that air.

"I- no." Percy shook his head, looking downward: he couldn't handle the eye-contact with Luke. It was all too much, the warm puffs of breath that snuck down his neck and relieved chilled skin, the hands groping hesitantly up his jacket, feeling lean muscle, and the audacity of Luke to do it in public, in the streets of New York City, indifferent in even a stupid way. Monsters probably smelt them from miles away, even. Perhaps the older demigod had an ambush planned. It had to be a faux, feigned attempt at flattery- a trick. Luke specialized in tricks: a humorous characteristic turned dangerous.

With a cold finality, Percy snapped, "I would be lying." He struggled from Luke's grasp, a vehement battle of pulls and thrusts he somehow won. With the newfound freedom, he began his way through the street.

"Percy!" He heard the word behind him, heard the strain in Luke's voice and he nearly broke. Nearly turned back and threw himself into the older demigod's arms. He had been lying to himself and he knew it. Luke knew it, too. Luke knew Percy better than he knew himself. Quickly, the blonde was caught up to him, paces synchronizing in a sort of hypnotic tick-tock. Pedestrians parted ways for the two. "Percy, at least talk. _Please_? How about-"

He was cut off by the son of Poseidon, stopping mid-sentence just for the chance to hear the boy. Perhaps one last time, or maybe a forerunner to a real conversation? A date? Yeah, Luke would be more than happy to call it a date. "There's nothing to talk about. Not a thing. No desires, nothing. We're enemies."

Luke allowed a smirk, stepping closer to the boy as they walked to nowhere in particular. "How about a… meeting of diplomacy? Polite banter- maybe I'll buy you some coffee- aye, I'll make 'em serve it blue, even." The corners of his mouth remained turned, tugging upon the scar he'd gotten long ago, foregone memories faded away into nothing over time. Only shadows. The smaller boy couldn't help his own humored smile, though it seemed pained- repressed, even, at the idea that someone he was meant to hate knew him so well.

"I'm sure it'll stay diplomatic," Percy edged on, airborne tension evaporating more quickly than his own wrath. "You know what, Castellan. Whatever. Your treat to me, our secret." The quote earned more than a hearty laugh from Luke, and it even seemed normal, back to before the War. Before Percy knew of chaos and disloyalty. Before he was torn away from Luke.

"I'm _great_ at keeping secrets; y'know firsthand," Luke muttered, bumping into Percy less than accidentally as the words flowed from his mouth, leaking with sarcasm though edged with goodwill and humor.

"Son of Hermes... and secrets." He looked to the older and cringed in a strained, joking way, sticking his hands in his woolen pockets and nodding his head to the side, beckoning to a coffee shop he had seen before, though never entered. Without pause, the two continued into line, embracing the warm air in a small gasp of pleasant surprise. It was then they realized how close they had actually been standing, and felt the radiation of warmth from one another. Though, they didn't move. Appeared as normal as possible, blending into the crowd as they had been taught.

After they had been given their steaming drinks, complete with little puffs of white air circling from the surface of the liquid, the boys scouted out a table. There, they seemed perfectly normal. Two teenagers, perhaps more than friends, sharing a drink, discussing as any mortal would. Percy would give the world for that, desired it more than anyone or anything. If only, though. He had enough wants right now, and a quenching thirst for knowledge. Knowledge of Luke.

"Where have you been? Why did you leave, Luke? It wasn't just me you le-"

"I left because I had to," He interrupted, face unreadable- not masked, but empty. Devoid of feeling and remorse. "I left to keep you safe, Percy. For you and for everyone. I can't go back now." Luke seemed serious, honest. Percy couldn't detest the boy for that, for humility in spite of his own wrongdoings.

The younger was astonished, though. Not by Luke's seemingly selfless actions, but by how he believed it helped anyone. How could _this_ change anything? "No. No, no. You've only caused problems- Luke, there's a _war_ because of you!" He ducked his head down, his bottom lip feverishly held between his teeth and his eyes narrowed nearly shut.

Luke looked down, face contorting the way of a vexed animal, "Percy- oh, gods, _Perce_. I didn't know this would happen. If I knew anything would end up like it is today, I would have never done it. I would have stayed with you and Annabeth and the rest- I didn't know it would end up like this."

"Yeah?" He looked back up, wide eyes complimenting his innocent, open-mouth pout, though contradictory to his tone. It was sarcastic and bitter, hateful and snide, "Pairing up with Kronos to destroy Olympus- 'Oh, I didn't know it was a bad idea!'. Luke, why?" By this point, the younger felt bipolar. On a roller-coaster of emotions that wouldn't stop, an adventure gone wrong as the ride continued on and on, willing only to what seemed like insanity.

"Perce, that's why I found you- an offer, that's all I want you to hear. I know it's not worth listening to, but just," Luke looked to him, blue locking onto green in a moment that would then forth be embedded in Percy's head, indistinguishable from countless other times but still there, "please?"

"Found me. Oh, yeah, that's a great term. How long did it take you? Do you have allies in Camp, too? Watching me- _us_?" He didn't know what to say; an offering at this point would be useless. Outside this quaint, mortal shop lay places already fallen to ruins, marched upon by savages of war.

Luke let out a quiet chuckle, murmuring, "You're so cute when you're mad, y'know."

He blushed, furrowing his brows and placing his head back down over his arms, wrapped around themselves over the table. "This isn't about _me_\- well, it is, but that's not the point. Just- Luke, answer me."

"I came to talk to you. We could continue meeting like this- and gods, Percy, I love seeing you and I _know_ that you love to see me," he allowed a smirk, his arm reaching outward, placing a familiar hand on the halfblood's clothed elbow, "or you could… I don't know what else you could do. I can't bear not to see you. You're the only reason I haven't given up on both sides, Perce." _Cliché,_ he thought.

Percy shook his head, involuntarily rattling the table as he went. There wasn't a deeper message to what Luke was saying. He wanted to see Percy and Percy wanted to see him. Not a way around it, no subliminal messages- nothing. They desired each other, needed each other. Frankly, he was duped. Without idea or clue as to what to do. _The hero and the traitor: a lovestory written in heaven_, he thought, _or in hell_. "Luke… gods damnit, you're so fucking difficult," he muttered into his sleeve, audibly, picking his head up and reaching for the blonde's hand, bringing the nimble fingers gently to his lips.

"I know." Luke smirked, index finger gingerly stroking Percy's face. "We could elope, you know. Leave this all behind…"

"No, I couldn't do that. You have a better chance coming back to Camp before I'll do that," the boy said, shaking his head firmly and beginning to nibble at Luke's finger. His eyes were shimmering, heart-pounding. This was wrong. All of it was wrong; he had no business here, and the same could be said for Luke. They were sworn enemies… but, oh, how they craved each other.

"Alright-" Luke started, immediately interrupted by _something._ That was the best word Percy could come up with: an Earth-rattling boom, followed by a few ambient shouts. The youngest boy immediately jerked his head up, liquid splattering across the surface of the table as he did. His countenance shifted in visible dispensary, green eyes flickering to Luke for guidance. Odd, the hero of Olympus turning to its antagonist for help. "Percy, go," was the response; a shaky thing. Feigned strength. Like a boulder in danger of toppling down a hill. It scared Percy, it really did.

"But- _Luke_."

"Fucking go!" Luke yelled, his face such an odd mixture of fear and concern and sorrow it sent shivers down Percy's back. The idea of a weak Luke Castellan made his muscles spasm in terror.

He shook his head, stubbornly loyal. Luke expected this, though. He rose, apprehensively, and tugged on Percy's woolen over-coat. Percy swore that for a second their noses brushed and he imagined that a decorative sprawl of magenta painted itself across his now-shaky features.

"You need to go. I'll hold them- nevermind, just _go_," Luke insisted, forcing him from the comfort of his seat. Percy took the opportunity to glance outside, sea-green eyes flickering in surprise: bits of concrete dust mixed with the snow, turning things into a sort of hazy white-and-gray void, only shades visible. Colors buried beneath monotonous hues. He could feel Riptide growing warm in his pocket, but he shoved the impulse away.

"Fine," the younger mumbled, tone flat. Defeated. He shoved himself away from Luke, any eye contact denied- even when he felt a once-familiar pair of lips ghost across his forehead. Only in his mind did he replay the scene, wish for the physical contact. Only in his mind did he secretly _want_ more of it. More of Luke's governing personality that made him feel oddly serene. As he sprinted back to his checkpoint, that's all he thought of.

Percy spoke to no one on his return to the camp; skipped evening meal. He was afraid of the murmurings about his mental state that were surely afloat now, lost in an endless sea of slander. As he drifted into a restless state of unconsciousness, he could hear the rasping of knuckles against his door, a few shouts drowned out by the sound of flowing water.

There was only one thing, one person, that troubled every fiber of his being.

_ Luke.  
_

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**Really sorry for _slow _updates. It's been months; I just got to editing this chapter! Again, sorry. The next chapter will be published tomorrow, I'm hoping. So thanks for reading. Please review, leave your thoughts, ideas! They're all appreciated greatly, really. **_  
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	2. Chapter 2 - Attachment

**Word Count before A/N: 2,232. _Again, sorry for the long delay. Next chapter will be up this week. Thanks for reading. :D xx_**

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Luke wasn't having the best time with the whole _enemy-of-Olympus _thing—well, not whilst yearning to see its hero. All in all, he was a bit torn.

To add to his troubles, Kronos had grown more prevalent in his day to day activities: small tid-bits of information cast into his mind by an increasingly familiar presence, not dissimilar to what his father had once done; an omnipresent voice tugging him in a direction opposing to his traditional sense of moral. To anyone's. And now, shuffling through dark corners of places he'd never visited, bidding by a titan he didn't really care to meet, Luke was beginning to question his decisions. A sort of too-late existential crises; a plea to no one to stop this war that he had begun. He liked to imagine that if Percy were by his side it would all be over and cast away into the past. He would no longer have to internalize his feelings and release them in combat. The passions that added a sort of chaotic element to his humanity, founded on slippery-slopes and justified by the treatment of his own kin. The kin he waged battle against.

But Percy _wasn't_ by his side, never would be. Who's to tell a maniac he can't dream, though? Maybe it wasn't the whole possibility of unrequited love that bothered him, though: it was the mere idea that Percy loved him back. And they were separated by a milestone in Luke's whole half-blood career.

The Olympians.

Somehow, through the entirety of this mess, he found himself with freetime. A surprising amount of it; and what better use of this than a futile attempt to sort out his life?

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"I got you something." The words were clear, echoing over the metallic trickle of Percy's fountain in their raspy infinity. Immediately, his hand was on Riptide, squeezing the quickly warming pen like a lifeline.

"Luke," he said, not daring to pivot around. Percy found it a sudden blessing that his cabin lacked lighting fixtures—a sort of safe-haven when the sun found its way below the horizon. He could come here when he wasn't off somewhere, smother himself in the darkness.

"Perseus," was the reply, the man's voice hinted with a humored twang. He could imagine the smirk, tugging upon a familiar scar. "It's rude not to welcome your guests, you know? Especially when they come bearing gifts." Percy could hear the floorboards signal his creeping approach, their sea-rotted wood groaning in apprehension. His own muscles followed suit, growing tense beneath layers of goosebump-riddled skin.

"Don't call me _that_," the younger spat, not taking the time to contemplate his reactions. He swiveled around, met with only the fuzziest picture of Luke. He couldn't see any recognizable features, but just that image was enough for his mind to begin compensating for what reality lacked. Flash-photos whirled through his mind: times before, shared smiles, mutual laughter. Icy blue eyes, always analyzing. He had to shake his head to to wipe away the resemblance. "And haven't you heard it's rude to surprise the person you're supposed to be trying to kill?"

"Hey, I got you a Christmas present. That compensates for lack of tact, right?" A laugh like sweet sandpaper followed his question.

_Just like him,_ Percy thought. It was, too. Luke always had a way of rooting into peoples' hearts before tearing himself up in an emotional maelstrom. He hadn't even remembered Christmas was nearing until now. "I don't want it."

"Oh, c'mon, Perce. I traveled all the way here- you have to _at least_ look at it," Luke stated, tone commanding whilst sympathy-yearning in a sort of way only a true spawn of Hermes could master. The eldest took another step forward, evident in the creaking and rocking of his whole cabin.

Percy pursed his lips, chest tightening into an all-too-familiar knot as he mulled over words. The persuasion was too much, especially from Luke. "Fine."

Luke's grin was practically audible in the darkness. He stepped forward, torches flickering on in unison. Percy regretted his decision instantly, met with the face of a model and eyes of ice. He even a felt a little self-conscious in his camp garb which held barely a candle to Luke's own woolen coat that frayed just above his ankles. Percy did notice something far from usual, though: beneath the glacial excuses of irises lay bags, deposited sediment of their own, colored blue and purple. It was a very distinctive kink in an otherwise fluid system. He couldn't quite place why it made him feel so bad, though. Luke had brought this upon himself.

"Here- here, I really thought of you when I got this, Jackson. Better like it," the older boy grumbled. Percy did little more than gaze continuously at his countenance, sea-green eyes taking in the sight. Two weeks ago was their last encounter; in Percy's mind, that was far too long.

The blonde shoved a hand into his coat, blue eyes still latched onto Percy's face as he dug feverishly for what appeared as nothing more than a velvet lined box. _Better than what I usually get_, was Percy's thought process: _nothing._

"I'm waiting," the sea-prince chastised. "They'll find you in here, with me. Poseidon knows you're here."

Another chuckle came, rolling from Luke's chest like waves of partially-crystallized honey. Percy involuntarily relaxed. "That'd be too easy, yeah?" he muttered, off-concentration as he finally held up the box. His grin widened as it was placed in Percy's open hand, replacing the sight of Riptide. This seemed to bring Luke closer, despite Percy's internalized distress. _He really doesn't know when to draw the line. _

"Open it, open it," Luke nudged on, eyes flickering several times between Percy's face and his hands. The mischievous glint was still there. But—for a second—he thought he could make out flecks of gold. Like a bright Celestial Bronze embedded deep within icy caverns. He chose to ignore this trait, though, in favor of his spoils.

"Stop rushing me."

"Sorry, sorry. Can't rush perfection, I forgot." Luke grinned, rocking back and forth in his boots like any self-respecting ADHD demigod.

Percy did his best to mute Luke's comments, unraveling a bow fixed 'round the cube. He drew in a breath, observing the older boy's fire-illuminated features before opening the gift. He did his best to act unfazed but appreciative; inside lay a tiny trident, something that could be attached to just about any piece of jewelry. He guessed it to be carved of topaz and emerald, blending together in an immaculate structure. He couldn't help the twitching of his lips at the sight.

"It's green. Like your eyes, I thought," Luke muttered, his digits twitching nervously inside the woolen pockets. "Do you like it?"

Percy took some more time to admire it before stuffing the charm in the pockets of his jeans. Luke's face seemed to fall instantaneously with disappointment.

"Yeah, I do. Where'd you steal it from, Castellan?"

The older boy shrugged. "I'm a klepto, so what? I steal with my heart," Luke stated, raising a suggestive brow and earning a few laughs from Percy.

It felt odd being suddenly comfortable around him. He could still feel the presence of his father, hear the relentless lapping of waves just aside his cabin. Luke must've known this too, though. He was fidgeting more than usual, firelight from the surrounding lamps adding depth to the contours and ridges of the boy's sculpted face. Multiplying the hue of his pink-tinted lips.

Percy glanced to the floor, formulating something to say. He was never very good at this, Luke always did most of the talking. His fingers ran over the trident tucked neatly in his pocket, the tip of his shoes brushing against Luke's own boots. "Why did you decide to show up now, Luke? After two weeks. I was alone, you know-"

"Shut it, Jackson. I left because we, us together- attract too much attention. Here… there's less of a danger. I have something to ask you," he stated, the last part coming out as an unconfident mumble. Percy glanced up, letting out an uncertain, incoherent mumble.

He beckoned vaguely towards the back exit of his cabin. "Out here." He shuffled over there, slipping off his sneakers and glancing back to check that Luke was following. He was, blue eyes locked right onto Percy's physique. "Calms me down. I prefer it by the water." Luke situated himself beside the younger demigod, warmth taking an immediate effect. He could feel it radiating off in thick waves despite the gusting winds.

"We could run away."

Percy's eyes darted from the black water to Luke's distant expression. "What? That's not a _question_, that's a joke."

"You and I. Leave. You won't join my side… maybe we could find a way to still slap both of our fathers in the face," he said, his free hand resting near Percy's. The boy's pinky lifted up, landing purposely upon Percy's own and staying there. Neither of them moved despite the mutual intake of air.

"No. No, we couldn't," Percy chided, raven hair falling about his porcelain-skinned forehead as he gave a firm shake of his head. "You have a bounty on your head. You'd leave me again.

"Like you always do."

This statement earned a sincere moment of silence from both of them. Luke couldn't deny that he had abandoned Percy—but he had always come back. Visited. It took some mulling over from both parties, though.

"I don't mean to," he said, offering a lighthearted smile. "I've never failed to visit, right?" Percy could tell that beneath this boy's calm demeanor lay a madman.

"Prove it, then. Prove that you can stay _one _night. With me."

He felt Luke's digits engulf the rest of his hand, sliding over like a flesh cocoon and sealing with their fingers waffling together. He could feel Percy's anxiety, apparently, as a concerned glance his way followed. "Are you okay with this?" he muttered, the vertical scar tugging in a way he'd never seen it move before as Luke's lips twisted downward. He was thinking.

"_Uh_\- uh, yeah. I'm- I'm okay with this." The words came out like a drunken man's, stumbling over one another in an attempt to find a sense of grammatical bliss. Luke's expression brightened, an impish smirk painting his features.

"I've been thinking," the eldest started, glancing to the sky. Percy waited. "The gods are watching right now. I feel like I'm deflowering you on the steps of Olympus." He didn't reply, simply drew in a breath.

"And…" Luke trailed off, his thumb ghosting over Percy's palm as both of them glanced from the moon to each other. Sea-green, dulled by night; ice blue, illuminated by lunar reflections. Each set of colored orbs got closer, closer. Their noses were brushing now, parted lips allowing breaths to mix together in a hazy, desireful cloud.

Luke pulled away.

_Luke_ pulled _away. _

But _Percy _didn't. He kept inching forward until his weight grew off-center, mind compensating for his body's slow reflexes a bit too late. He let out a garbled noise before he splashed into the pool of water below him, the older boy jumping instantly away. He surfaced dry enough, but the two expressions differed greatly: Luke was obviously amused, smirk turned full-blown goofy smile that did a bit to melt Percy's annoyance.

"Doesn't look like much has changed," the blonde taunted, leaning forward with a feigned pout. It was washed away when a stream of water flicked him atop the head. "Ow."

"And you're damned lucky I can't get wet, Castellan," Percy muttered, pulling himself onto the dock with shaky arms. He felt desperately into his pocket: the trident was still there, the metal backing warm. "Screw off," he said, pushing his way past the taller and shuffling through the doorframe.

"Aw, c'mon!" Luke shouted with faux-exasperation, slipping off his coat and tossing it somewhere on the free bunkbeds. He settled himself in the bed that Percy claimed his own, grinning. "I said I wouldn't leave tonight." His eyes trailed the other boy, taking in careful observations. He leaned back, arms rested behind his head and legs stretched out.

"Care to get my boots for me?" Luke asked, smirking to his writhing ankles.

"I thought I said screw off, Castellan," the younger mumbled, though obliged all the less. He slipped Luke's boots from his feet and crinkled his nose. "Gods, ever change socks?"

That earned a chuckle from Luke. "That's the smell of man," he stated, offering a content sigh and wiggling his now-freed toes.

"Yeah, right." Percy situated himself hesitantly on the edge of the bed. He glanced to Luke's open arms, his thin gray T-shirt, before slipping closer in. Luke seemed to know what to do, allowing one arm to rest over Percy's abdomen. Neither of them objected as the last torch wavered before flickering out, leaving both of them to their own set of objects. With legs entangled, they found a way to fit into each other—Percy's head on the pillow, Luke's chin in the crook of his neck and the younger boy nearly completely surrounded by the older; awkward but comfortable.

"Goodnight, Perseus," Luke breathed out, hot breath skimming against Percy's neck and razing its fair share of goosebumps.

"Goodnight, Luke."

Percy had to remind himself that this was _only _for tonight.

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**Wow, I need to apologize for the lonnnnnngggg update time! I totally forgot about this! I just got to editing it again the night before I published this chapter; I'll make sure to make updates _at least_ weekly for now on! Thanks for reading and please, please review or follow! **


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